Position Secured

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Position Secured Page 6

by Olivia Brynn


  “Hey, Giancarlo!” someone called across the room—a young man hurrying toward the door, grinning and waving to them. “Ciao!”

  “Ciao, Enrico,” Giancarlo returned. Via didn’t know whether she felt more relief or annoyance at the loss of his attention. She was too tired and confused. She wanted him to touch her, yet she was so afraid he would. Everything that had happened that night pressed in on her, churning her up, centering all her too intense emotions on him. For some reason, she liked it, but she didn’t trust it.

  She said quickly, “I have to go to bed and let you return to your life,” and began stuffing the map back into her bag. He was silent, just watching her until at last she put her bag down on the table and lifted her gaze to his. “I’ll never forget what you did for me. Thank you.”

  He smiled, nudging her lightly with his shoulder. “I did nothing. Just there at the right time. Come, I’ll walk you to your room and leave you.”

  Her heart hammered as she walked silently upstairs beside him. What did he mean? Why would he walk her to her room, if he meant to leave her there? Was he just giving her the chance to say no? Touch me, please touch me—take my hand, anything…

  He was simply being kind, keeping her company till the safety of her room. She was in no condition to attract anyone. But if he were to kiss me, what would it be like…?

  Sore—Marco split your lip, remember?

  They were in the empty upstairs hall now, walking the last few steps to her door. Why doesn’t he even speak?

  Why don’t you, Via?

  “Well, this is me,” she blurted inanely. “Thank you for everything. I really am…”

  “Stop thanking me,” he interrupted, grasping her wrist at last and giving it a little admonitory shake as they came to a halt outside her door. Fortunately, he seemed more amused than annoyed. “Believe it or not, I am glad to know you.”

  She smiled at that. “Ciao, Giancarlo,” she mocked. His fingers slid down to take her hand properly. The expression in his deep, dark eyes was unreadable yet so enticing that she reached her free hand to his shoulder and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. At once, his arm came round her in a quick hug.

  Her face ached with unshed tears and she threw her arm around his neck, embracing him convulsively. She felt his other arm come up to hold her, too. His cheek pressed on her hair. Surreptitiously, she wiped her eyes on his shirt.

  And then, just as she was about to pull back and apologize, she realized with shock that his erection was pressing into her abdomen.

  Oh Jesus, he does want me!

  Now what do I do?

  Kiss him, ask him to stay!

  I can’t, I’m not ready for this, I don’t know him…

  God, I want him!

  How could she not? His big body felt so good in her arms, warm and hard, his hold at once strong and gentle, seeming to promise everything she had ever wanted in a lover. Between her legs, she was wet, wetter than she could ever remember, without so much as a kiss. And she was shaking again.

  When he lifted his head from her hair, pushing up her chin with his fingers, she saw with awe that the intriguing, unreadable expression in his eyes had always been at least part lust. Now they were heavy and clouded with it. They were predatory, devouring her, scalding her with their heat. And God, her body burned in excited response.

  Say the words, V. Make him stay, don’t lose this chance…

  She stared up at him, desperate and terrified. Somewhere behind the desire, or maybe part of it, she thought she saw anguish in his eyes.

  Kiss me! For God’s sake, kiss me—don’t make me kiss you.

  Still, apart from the rapid rise and fall of his breathing, he didn’t move, just roved his hot gaze over her eyes and lips and throat. How could she be so afraid of this stranger’s touch and still want it so badly? She knew, with the tiny part of her head that could still think, that her desire was all muddled up with shock, with fear of being alone, with gratitude. She knew that right now she was just a walking, breathing mass of emotion. But there was something about him, some wild, powerful passion she was dying to taste. Make your mind up, Victoria! Do it!

  Abruptly, before her courage failed, she stood on tiptoe once more, reaching with her mouth for his.

  “Sh-sh.” His hand came up quickly, one finger on her parted lips. His voice was a low, husky whisper. “If I kiss you, I won’t stop.”

  Then don’t stop.

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